


To Good Choices

by transpreussen



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-16
Updated: 2014-09-16
Packaged: 2018-02-17 15:57:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2315192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transpreussen/pseuds/transpreussen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'The younger sniggered “That must’ve pissed off Iggy.” He shrugged “Whatever, I like this place. The weather’s great, the beach is cool, everyone is really nice and speaks english - Vanya, my dear, I think we made a great choice.”' - Russia and America go on vacation and have a little conversation over dinner</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Good Choices

**Author's Note:**

> This was requested by tumblr user slytherinwarlock (original post can be found here: http://transpreussen.tumblr.com/post/95303487809/america-had-a-way-with-people-you-know-he-didnt)  
> It's a short piece, and for those of you that may be interested, the dinner takes place in a portuguese village called Sesimbra - unfortunately, the restaurant itself recently closed.  
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

America had a way with people, you know.

He didn’t usually show it; he was a busy person, with papers to sign and meetings to argue and coffee to be drank during long conferences with old, boring politicians who did nothing but give him a headache. So it really was no wonder that the more social (talkative, charming, manipulative) side of the star spangled nation didn’t usually come out to party, and was, in fact, unknown to those outside the blond’s small circle of friends and close allies.

It amused him imensely that even though he was neither, Ivan was the one that knew this side of Alfred better than the man himself, and as he watched with conceiled interest and gentle amusement his lover animatedly talk with their waiter (a short, plump brunette with dark eyes and a smile as bright as the sun), Ivan briefly entretained the idea of what would happen if America used this talent in his daily life as a nation. How much easier would he accomplish all his goals, persuade his enemies, intimidate and destroy them if the Land of the Free let out the side that he himself had seen so often during the last century. It was a proof of how lost he was in thought that he didn’t even notice when their waiter retreated, and Alfred’s amused, “Earth to Ivan, to you copy?” cut through his line of thought so suddenly that he needed to blink a couple of times and look around for a bit before he remembered where he was.

Raising his eyebrows at the nation in front of him, America grinned “Raquel says that they don’t have vodka over here, only in the bar, so she’s bringing the wine menu and we’ll pick something to share.” Sighing happily, Alfred let himself relax in his seat “I love European countries, you people give alcohol to anyone that asks for it.”

Ivan snorted “You truly are something else, Alfred.”

Ignoring the cocky grin he got as an answer, Ivan looked around once more, slowlier this time, taking in the people and the environment he was in.

It was a nice place, full of tables with red towels and high chairs, people laughing and chatting; they were dining outside tonight, the good weather too good to pass up, and it was a chance to observe all of those walking around; children and their parents, teenagers with friends, elderly couples walking close together with the ever present, relaxing sound of the waves in the backround. The sky was clear, showing the bright stars and the beatiful full moon, which, Ivan noticed, America was staring at with a wistful look.

"It’s a nice place." The russian spoke softly, knowing exactly what his lover was feeling when he looked at the infinite universe they both sought to explore and understand

Alfred smiled “It’s a nice country. Never thought I’d like it so much. You Europeans are usually too dark and confusing for my taste but…this is kind of…neat? I don’t know. It makes me feel weird. Nostalgic. Not bad but. Weird. Oh thank you.” America smiled up at the girl (Raquel?), picked the wine chart and opened it. His eyes moved quickly through the pages and he quickly found one of the wines that had been recommended to him by Portugal themself.

Russia waits until the waiter is walking away (trying not to laugh at the family dining next to them, a big group of fifteen, as a teenager tries in vain to catch the attention of a little baby, perhaps a cousin, who is very determinedly attempting to colour a drawing book) before he picks up the conversation again “It’s called Saudade.”

"Wha?" America quickly chewed the bread before trying once more "What?"

"What you’re feeling. Portugal calls it ‘saudade’, and it’s supposed to be impossible to translate, at least with the same meaning." With a small smile, Russia recalls "I remember England used to get very annoyed with that - so many poets and not one could express in the English language what portuguese did in one single word."

The younger sniggered “That must’ve pissed off Iggy.” He shrugged “Whatever, I like this place. The weather’s great, the beach is cool, everyone is really nice and speaks english - Vanya, my dear, I think we made a great choice.”

Russia, rolling his eyes at the pompous tone, mockingly raised his glass of port wine “To good choices,”

Alfred grinned back, raised his glass and was about to clink it agaisnt Ivan’s when he stopped and blushed. Ivan blinked in confusion as the american spoke, obviously embarassed “And, uh…to us, too. I mean, to our relationship and uh stuff.”

Russia chuckled, feeling a sudden wave of warmth curse through his body “Yes. To us too.”

The smile he got as a response would forever remain as the best, most wonderful and beautiful thing he had ever seen.


End file.
